Speck
Persephone is a thirty-something sexual submissive who loves to share her experiences and fantasies with others at http://tangysweet.blogspot.com.
I can remember long ago when the ordinary joining with a man was all I'd known and all I thought possible. Then, one night in a hotel room, came the one who showed me there were other ways to play. He was one lover of two at that time in my life, one like night and the other like day.
For a while, the ordinary way of loving was like the dry ground of brightly lit daytime. It was a stable and familiar place, somewhere I could see what lay before me. The other times, with the other man, were the rainy stormy nights. Eventually in my mind, the two ways to make love mixed, making the ground muddy beneath my feet and leaving me unable to find my footing for a while.
He didn't ask me the first time. He simply got out the rope and demanded my wrists. I could have said no and he would've stopped, but I was playfully curious. I didn't know then that it would open a door in my psyche that I didn't even know existed. I didn't know then that door would open into a world that had only ever just tickled the edges of my consciousness. I never thought I'd visit, let alone live there.
The first time, watching him stalk around the bed with the rope held loosely in one hand as he figured out the best way to bind me, I'd giggled nervously. I cracked jokes and felt my stomach flutter. But when the rope slipped around my wrists, when it pulled tight, spreading my arms and making it impossible for me to cover my breasts, my cunt, my face, the giggling and jokes stopped.
Exposed and feeling somehow strangely honest, he teased me ruthlessly; building me up and easing me back down over and over. He controlled not only my ability to move, but when and how I would cum. That night he drew out something inside me that had been only an unrecognized speck before. He fanned the speck until it glimmered brilliantly, set only to intensify with time.
That first time he bound my wrists and spread my legs without a word, he teased me until I panted and I moaned, until I begged him for release. When I came, I did it thrashing and pulling at the rope as the waves of it overwhelmed me. It left me trembling not only in my body, but also in my mind.
Not only was it the first time I came while I was bound, it was the first time a man made me cum completely on his own, without any manipulation on my part. He truly did exert his control over my body in every sense of the word. He compelled me to give all my trust to him with the assurance that he would take care of me. He forced me to expose myself and open to him in ways that went far beyond the rope that bound my limbs.
I like to imagine that he saw that speck inside me, knew I would be the type to take to his kind of play with a natural inclination. Perhaps it wasn't at all like that, maybe he simply saw an opportunity to act out his fantasies with me, with no thought to whether or not it might change me forever...but I like to think the former is true.
I can remember long ago when the ordinary joining with a man was all I'd known and all I thought possible. Then, one night in a hotel room, came the one who showed me there were other ways to play. He was one lover of two at that time in my life, one like night and the other like day.
For a while, the ordinary way of loving was like the dry ground of brightly lit daytime. It was a stable and familiar place, somewhere I could see what lay before me. The other times, with the other man, were the rainy stormy nights. Eventually in my mind, the two ways to make love mixed, making the ground muddy beneath my feet and leaving me unable to find my footing for a while.
He didn't ask me the first time. He simply got out the rope and demanded my wrists. I could have said no and he would've stopped, but I was playfully curious. I didn't know then that it would open a door in my psyche that I didn't even know existed. I didn't know then that door would open into a world that had only ever just tickled the edges of my consciousness. I never thought I'd visit, let alone live there.
The first time, watching him stalk around the bed with the rope held loosely in one hand as he figured out the best way to bind me, I'd giggled nervously. I cracked jokes and felt my stomach flutter. But when the rope slipped around my wrists, when it pulled tight, spreading my arms and making it impossible for me to cover my breasts, my cunt, my face, the giggling and jokes stopped.
Exposed and feeling somehow strangely honest, he teased me ruthlessly; building me up and easing me back down over and over. He controlled not only my ability to move, but when and how I would cum. That night he drew out something inside me that had been only an unrecognized speck before. He fanned the speck until it glimmered brilliantly, set only to intensify with time.
That first time he bound my wrists and spread my legs without a word, he teased me until I panted and I moaned, until I begged him for release. When I came, I did it thrashing and pulling at the rope as the waves of it overwhelmed me. It left me trembling not only in my body, but also in my mind.
Not only was it the first time I came while I was bound, it was the first time a man made me cum completely on his own, without any manipulation on my part. He truly did exert his control over my body in every sense of the word. He compelled me to give all my trust to him with the assurance that he would take care of me. He forced me to expose myself and open to him in ways that went far beyond the rope that bound my limbs.
I like to imagine that he saw that speck inside me, knew I would be the type to take to his kind of play with a natural inclination. Perhaps it wasn't at all like that, maybe he simply saw an opportunity to act out his fantasies with me, with no thought to whether or not it might change me forever...but I like to think the former is true.
posted by O, my first orgasm | 9:04 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home